Showing posts with label blog. Show all posts
Showing posts with label blog. Show all posts

Friday, 1 September 2017

Join the October Frights Blog Hop!

WELCOME TO THE 2017 OCTOBER FRIGHTS BLOG HOP SIGNUP




The Ghoulish Blog Hop Celebrating All Things That Go Bump In The Night


This wonderful event of dark and devilish things happens from October 10th-15th and is open to paranormal and horror authors.

  • Participants are asked to join our Facebook Group. If you would like to participate, but cannot join the group, please leave a comment or email me (you can find my email in any of the guideline pages here on the blog).
  • The hop theme is any and all things creepy or spooky; a Halloween type theme.
  • Either blogs or websites are acceptable; as long as you can post easily visible content you can join the hop.
  • Participants can post daily, semi-daily, or run one post for the entire hop, your choice.
  • Posts can be stories, poems, excerpts, book spotlights, photo montages, general ramblings about spooky stuff, etc. 
  • Graphics are available via the Facebook group, (or email if you cannot join the group) and we ask you use at least one in your blog hop posts.
  • All signups will be through Inlinkz and the embed code or link MUST be added to your blog hop posts or blog/website (code and link will be available once the signup begins). Be aware the embed code may not show in the Blogger editor; be sure to check the preview to see if it has embedded properly.
  • Promotion of the blog hop is mandatory, how you promote is up to you.
  • If you signup, posting on October 10th is MANDATORY.  Sites with no October Frights content (and I mean content, not just a graphic) by October 11th will be culled from the hop.
  • If you would like to hold a contest or giveaway during the hop, feel free! A planned Mega Rafflecopter Book (plus swag) Giveaway is also being organized through the Facebook Group.





If you are a horror or paranormal author, and would like to participate please signup through the InLinkz widget. Just click the Add Your Link button and fill out the form (for name you may use your author name or the name of your blog/website).







Sunday, 11 January 2015

Invasion of the One Lovely Blog Hop




Recently (like on Friday) I was nominated by the lovely and talented Johanna K. Pitcairn (who currently has a new book, 32 Seconds) in the One Lovely Blog Hop. This challenge consists of listing seven interesting facts about me, although I may use a loose definition of interesting as I lead a fairly boring life. 


Here are the Rules:
Share seven facts about yourself
Link to at least 15 blogs that you enjoy.


My Facts

  • Fact 1: I am not what you’d call a girlie girl, but I do have a scarf obsession. Pretty patterns, flimsy fabric, decorated material, it all calls to me, and then sits in my closet, waiting…
  • Fact 2: I have a strange fascination for Pikachu, from the Pokemon franchise. Don’t ask why, I just do.
  • Fact 3: I love ballet, ( so much so, I squealed with delight when dancer Rex Harrington was a contestant on Amazing Race Canada), and listen to classical music and opera. Also, I’m fond of the ditties from Broadway musicals.
  • Fact 4: I once tied a cherry stem in a knot with my tongue, after watching a Twin Peaks episode (I just wanted to see if it could be done, nothing kinky involved). And yes, I did do it, but it took about ten minutes.
  • Fact 5: While growing up, I've been hit in the face with a soccer ball, hit in the shoulder with a baseball, I ran (on foot, mind you) straight into a parked truck, and walked into a fire extinguisher at school.
  • Fact 6: While I write horror stories, I am a reluctant reader of the genre, or watcher of scary films. I’m too much of a chicken, though I’m better than I used to be in this regard.
  • Fact 7: I do not own a cell phone (you can all collectively gasp now).


Okay here’s my victims, uh, bloggers list:



Just click on the linked names to see their wonderful blogs/websites.


All my nominees are under no obligation to join in, but, if you do, please link back to the blog of the person who nominated you (namely me), share some fun facts, and pass the hop on to 15 blogs (or as many as you scrounge). And if you've already participated, feel free to ignore the nomination.


Sunday, 5 October 2014

The Killers and Demons II Blog Tour Begins Today

The week long blog tour for Killers and Demons II: They Return starts today, October 5th and runs until October 13th. I'm visiting some great blogs, and I have some wonderful guest posts, interviews, and book excerpts and spotlights lines up, so please stop by and enjoy. Plus there's a contest to win copies of the book.






Come one, come all, to a festival of murder and mayhem. 
We have killers, demons, witches and more, with bloody exploits galore.

Evil is back, with a greater appetite for death.

Sample what is offered, but be careful. 
What you nibble on may turn out to be somebody’s fingers…




Here are a list of the stops for my Killers and Demons II blog tour.


October 5:
The Cult of Me - Guest Post: Splatter and Gore vs. Psychological Horror

October 6:
The FlipSide of Julianne - Guest Post: Historic Settings for Horror 
Sheila Deeth's Blog - Guest Post: Nightmares
Dandilyon Fluff - 
Spotlight and Excerpt: Evil Returns  - What Fun!  

October 7:

October 8:
Ben Ireland's Blog - Interview

October 9:
Spreading the Writer's Word - Book Spotlight

October 10:
Joylene Nowell Butler, author - Guest Post: How to Write a Good Villain

October 11:
The Road to Nowhere... - Guest Post: Exploring the Appeal of Horror

October 12:
Pagan Spirits Book Blog - Guest Post: My Love Affair with Villains

October 13:
The Manicheans - Guest Post: Turning the Sweet, Sour



Sunday, 21 July 2013

Welcome to the Kintsugi Poets Society Blog Hop!

Kintsugi Poets Society Blog Hop




Welcome to the blog hop for the launch of the Kintsugi Poets Society!

Where poets plumb the depths of the black and bleak to extract the shadowy beauty within. For the next week you will be treated to the somber side of poetry, sent on a journey into the lyrical, dusky mists to emerge on the other side of the enigmatic darkness...

...unchanged or transformed?
Only time will tell.

"Turning dark cracks & broken fragments into golden seams of poetry."


Our theme for this hop is: Darkness



Eventide

Night cascades, alive
Its shrouded obscurity
of sunless splendour
~


Join us for the next week in this veritable fest of poetry, as we, Kintsugi members, post our creative musings on our blogs and on the main site for the Kintsugi Poets Society: http://kintsugiart.wordpress.com/

And be sure to come back each day for a new poem from me, and head over to the Kintsugi Poets Society for details on all the other wonderful poets taking part.





And as an extra bonus in honour of the launch, I'm running a contest.
The prize is a free copy of Reflections of Poetry from Smashwords.

Enter over at my Facebook Page all week
OR
you can enter here on this post

Thursday, 17 January 2013

Come Join the Bloody Valentine Blog Hop!


This February 14th I'm hosting a trash Valentine's Day blog hop. For one day writers and bloggers will dispense with the sappy romance and show you the bad side of love. Come be part of the fun!

We will be celebrating heartbreak, love gone wrong, romantic mayhem and tragedy, hopefully with that little splash of humour and blood.  There will also be prizes to be won, so sign up to be a participant or mark it on your calender.  

If you wish to be one of our bloggers, please click over to the Linky List and sign up. You can also put the list on your own blog by getting a copy of the code (it's the easiest way for people to find all the hoppers come Feb 14th).


The Hop is Now Ended.
Here's a List of the bloggers who participated:


Tuesday, 4 December 2012

The Next Big Thing

A few weeks ago I was kindly asked my friend and fellow writer, the talented Pat Bertram to participate in The Next Big Thing. For those of you not in the know, basically “The Next Big Thing” is a blog chain where a writer like me answers ten questions about a Work-in- Progress and then tags five more writer/bloggers to carry on the chain with their own Q and A post. You can check out Pat’s Next Big Thing post here: http://ptbertram.wordpress.com/2012/11/26/the-next-big-thing/


Now on to the main show, what you’ve all been waiting for, my...Next Big Thing


This is a cover mock-up I created.
What is your working title of your book?
The Duke’s Assassin

Where did the idea come from for the book?
It came from a short story I wrote for a steampunk horror themed anthology. I was looking for an idea for the story and I read an article about Canadian Steampunk, so being from Canada I thought it would be a cool idea to use the city of Halifax (from my home province of Nova Scotia) as a setting. As I was developing the alternate history/horror setting, I realised how much more there was to tell about this world I created and the characters. So I decided to write The Duke’s Assassin, which in turn became the first in a series of novels I plan to write.

What genre does your book fall under?
It’s part horror and part steampunk, so Steampunk Horror fits, I think.

Which actors would you choose to play your characters in a movie rendition?
I could see Hugh Jackman as my main vampire, Gideon (although I can see him in anything, so I might be biased), Kenneth Branagh as Samuel Cunard, Colin Farrell as the vampire Silas, Natalie Dormer (of The Tudors and Game of Thrones fame) as Nora, Canadian actor, Callum Keith Rennie as Rufus, Richard Armitage as my main villain, Richard and Alan Rickman as the Duke of Kent.

What is the one-sentence synopsis of your book?
An alternate Victorian world, where vampires, scientists and machines face down anarchists for the fate of the city of Halifax and British North America. 

Will your book be self-published or represented by an agency?
Well, I’m hoping to get it published with a Canadian publishing company, but if that doesn’t happen I will self-publish.

How long did it take you to write the first draft of your manuscript?
I’m still polishing up the first draft, as there’s still some historical research to muddle through and a few details to iron out, but it’s coming along quickly.

What other books would you compare this story to within your genre?
I never like comparing my writing to anything, but I suppose in the book there’s a bit of flavour of The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen by Alan Moore, and Dracula by Bram Stoker.

Who or what inspired you to write this book?
I’ve been looking for the right idea to set a book in a Canadian locale and the idea of re-writing history and using my home province as a background was quite the inspiration.

What else about your book might pique the reader’s interest?
I think the main character of Gideon, who’s a vampire, will appeal to readers. He’s not a villain, but neither is he a hero. He does his job protecting the Royal Maritime Commissioner, Samuel Cunard, and the city of Halifax from the threat of the anarchists, but he has no problem killing anyone on the opposing side of his world. He is quite amoral in a charming way. Also, the world itself, with its altered history, steam-powered machines and complicated politics should hold some fascination for readers.



And so ends my post.  Here are the five valiant bloggers who will carry on with the Next Big Thing chain next week:

Nick Paschall: The Nickronomicon


Angela Yuriko Smith: Dandilyon Fluff


Tuesday, 23 October 2012

CoffinHop Begins Tomorrow!

The happily horrific blog hop, nattily known as CoffinHop begins tomorrow, Oct 24th and runs until that horrifying holiday of Halloween. I, (as well as many, many others), am participating and I’m ready to creep the socks off you.

As a CoffinHop preview I'm showcasing a story by one our our new CoffinHoppers, V.V. Vaymin, and posting my own Coffin Hop schedule:


Cashword by V. V. Vaymin

"Well what about the price of life? How much is life?" Mr. Welp asked his history class during a current event discussion.
“You can’t put a price on life,” Shelly Macky piped. Blonde, blue eyed, one would think she was a partier, but Shelly was extremely conservative. She went to church every Sunday, despised pro-choice activists, believed the government would never lie to its people, was a vegetarian, and thought that everyone should be the same.
“Well, what do you call war?” retorted Richie Love, a boy clothed in black and considered satanic by the high school populace.  Richie was the opposite of Shelly.  He didn’t attend church because he had concluded that one could talk to God whenever one wanted to.  He believed the church was a fraudulent institution.  As for the government?  Well, the government lied to its people, used its people, and repressed its people with censorships and security laws. He believed the constitution had been written for a reason. He believed that women, each woman, should have the choice to have a child or not. And, he ate meat and loved it.
“What do you mean?” Shelly asked.
“War costs money and you’re going to war to kill people. So, that’s putting a price on life isn’t it?”
“But that’s different from abortion.”
“How?”  Richie asked sitting back in his chair.
“Hello,” Shelly exclaimed, “you’re killing a baby!”
“No, a baby is when the fetus pops out.  And babies die during war.”
“Yes but that’s not the intention. We don’t go to war to kill babies. We get abortions to kill babies. And a baby is the same thing when it’s in the womb verses when it’s out. You’re killing a living being,” she huffed, sitting up straighter. He really irritated her. He just didn’t see.
“So, we kill animals to eat.” Richie twirled a pencil between his fingers.
“I don’t. I’m a vegetarian, and I can’t believe people go through the barbaric act of killing to eat.”
Richie laughed and set the pencil down; it rolled off the table onto the floor. “You are such a hypocrite. You kill to eat. You kill plants.”
“Plants—’”
Richie held up his hand cutting her off. The class, along with Mr. Welp, watched them with amusement. Shelly always had something to say, and Richie was quiet unless a topic intrigued him then he would never shut-up.  Put them together and history class wasn’t so boring.
“If I remember correctly,” he said, “you argued earlier that abortion was wrong because it kills a living being, right? However, plants are living beings.”
“Yeah, but they don’t feel,” Shelly countered.  Her face was flushed; she hated Richie. She thought he was arrogant, violent and argued for the sake of arguing. He picked on her and she often hoped that God would spite him and show him the error of his ways.
“Neither does a fetus before its nervous system develops.  And, how do you know plants don’t feel?  Did you ask them?”
“Ok,” Mr. Welp interjected before they could continue. “Back to the topic at hand. How do you put a price on life?”
“I still think you can’t.” Shelly replied.
“The government and the church do.” Richie said calmly. He wasn’t done arguing with her. For three months he had listened to Shelly preach and criticize everyone’s life but her own and those that were similar to her.
“How does the church put a price on life?” Shelly asked half hysterical.
“Oh, I don’t know,” he mused, folding his arms in front of him, “ten percent of your income is supposed to go to the church in order for you to be a good person.”
“You don’t have to donate and that’s if you’re Catholic.”
“Aren’t you?”
“Mr. Love,” Mr. Welp said sitting on his desk, “let’s drop this and get back to the subject at hand.”
“I thought we were on the subject at hand, but obviously there are a plethora of subjects that are too ‘uncomfortable’ to discuss,” Richie replied getting frustrated.
“Well,” Shelly drawled, “I would never put a price of life.”
Two weeks later, Friday night, Shelly and Martha were on their way to a sleep over at their church. They had stopped at a gas station to fill up the tank, grab some chips and drinks, and were about to pay when Martha decided to add two Cashword puzzles to the bill.
“How do you play these?” Shelly asked once they were back in the car.
“Just scratch the question marks, and then scratch the letter on the crossword part.” Martha said pulling out onto the road. “I heard you and Richie Love were going at it in history again.”
“Yeah, he really makes me mad. He’s so arrogant.”
“Really, I thought he was quiet and sincere.”
“Oh please Martha, you think every guy is a total sweetheart.”
“Hey now.”
“Well, it’s the truth,” Shelly said scratching away the last question mark.
“Gosh it’s hot in here,” Martha said rolling the windows down.
“Yeah, it’s definitely going to be summer soon,” Shelly paused, “I won!”
“Really,” Martha glanced at her, “how much?”
“One hundred dollars!” Shelly exclaimed. As they went around a turn, a gust of wind shot into the car blowing the Cashword out of Shelly’s hand.
“Crap! Martha pull over. I’m gonna get it.”
Martha slowed down, pulled onto the shoulder and flicked on her hazard lights.
“Be careful,” she said as Shelly jumped out of the car, “that’s a blind corner and it’s not exactly thirty-five through here.”
Shelly nodded absentmindedly as she walked back to the turn. The sun had gone down substantially since they had left the gas station, but the fading light reflected off the card turning it into a glowing beacon against the asphalt.
Shelly glanced down the road, no cars. She walked to the middle and bent down to pick up the Cashword.
Martha screamed as a conversion van came around the corner and Shelly was no more.

The next day Pennville Post read:
Girl Killed Retrieving $100 Cashword Card


Author Bio:

Ms. Vaymin spent the early years of her childhood moving across the United States with her nose in a book. With her head in the clouds she dreamt of becoming a writer or an artist. As she entered her teens, however, her thoughts turned to more practical and stable vocations to fit into society but those nagging earlier visions were never far from the surface. When she was 22-years-old she became a no-mortgage homeowner and decided to pursue earlier ambitions. Now at 24 she is the author of the Sci-Fi, thriller The Great Storms and a soon-to-be mother.
Website:  http://vaymin.wordpress.com/




And here’s my schedule for CoffinHop 2012:

Day 1: Oct. 24th- Introduction to my book Gothic Cavalcade

Day 2: Oct. 25th- A book review of The Luneburg Werewolf by Steve Vernon

Day 3: Oct. 26th- A guest post by Karen Dales and a link to her giveaway

Day 4: Oct. 27th- A story, an excerpt and a poem, written by me

Day 5: Oct. 28th- An interview with Michael Brookes, author of The Cult of Me (plus a book giveaway)

Day 6: Oct. 29th- A post on my visit to the HalCon Sci-fi Convention

Day 7: Oct. 30th- Some Fun with TV Vampires

Day 8: Oct. 31st- A guest Post by A.M. Harte, author of Hungry for You and Above Ground

There will also be ebook freebies tossed in at random intervals for your enjoyment and more freebies at the conclusion of the tour.

And be sure to check out the Coffin Hop Store for a grab bag of creepy goodies:  http://www.cafepress.com/coffinhop


Tuesday, 17 July 2012

What's in a Name?

Today another guest stops by the blog.  Fellow writer Jane Smith is here to chat about why authors may use a pseudonym...


What's in a Name—Writing Under a Pseudonym
              
As writers we are constantly considering our craft. There is rarely a moment that goes by without us thinking about our work in some way or another. We perpetually consider what the best and most effective voice is for our writing, what words we use, what imagery we employ, our sentence structure, our titles, and so much more. But, for many, the name that they will publish their work under just isn't something that typically comes to mind. Interestingly, however, authors of all genres have a long history of writing under pen names or pseudonyms. Even some of our most treasured and well-known works may require a bit of a background check to learn who the true author is. So, why do authors write under pen names and what is the benefit of this?

In some cases, authors write under pen names simply because they would prefer to remain anonymous with their writing. However, in history, authors would often write under pseudonyms for somewhat more complicated reasons. Women would often publish their work under male pseudonyms, so that they could be published in actual publications and receive more widespread success. In the past, authors have used pen names and pseudonyms for more political reasons. If an author wrote something that was politically charged or that criticized the government, they would often publish their works under pen names to avoid heavy criticism. While either of these things can still happen today, the use of pen names and pseudonyms in today's society is much different. Authors working in various genres today may write under different names for each genre so as to keep consistency to their "brand". It can be damaging for a writer's reputation if they always write romance novels and then decide to publish a mystery novel under the same name. The romance readers may go to the mystery novel looking for that author's typical writing and be sourly disappointed by the change in genre.

Pen Names and the Blogosphere
Using a pseudonym in the blogosphere is also a fairly popular endeavor. While the reasons for using a pseudonym online today vary, there are some things to carefully take into consideration. Many people suggest using a pseudonym online simply because of the nature of the online world. With the influx of social media, social networking, and everything else online, online threats have become more palpable in recent years. Many bloggers will write under pen names or initials to avoid threats of identity theft or stalking. While this isn't necessarily common throughout the blogosphere, it does happen and is something to consider. Furthermore, much as it did for famous authors working in different social climates, pseudonyms can protect bloggers from direct criticism.

Some Famous Pen Names
George Eliot (Mary Anne Evans): Born in 1819, George Eliot was an extremely prolific author in the 1800s, who published under a male pseudonym. Born Mary Anne Evans, Eliot wrote about her controversial views on faith, religion, marriage, and the government. At the time, women authors were basically unheard of and were never actually taken seriously. Under her male pen name, Eliot gained much success as an intelligent and challenging writer.

Lewis Carroll (Charles Lutwidge Dodgson): As the author of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking-Glass and What Alice Found There, Carroll was an extremely successful author during his time and remained one of the most renowned authors in our history. It is believed that Carroll, born Charles Lutwidge Dodgson, wrote under a pseudonym both because he was unattracted to the spotlight and fame and because he desired a more neutral name that would be widely appreciated at the time.

J.K. Rowling (Joanne Rowling): As a more current example, J.K. Rowling author of the Harry Potter series used a pseudonym for her hugely successful work. While this pseudonym is not completely masking her identity, it does serve a purpose. Rowling believed the wizard series would see more success with her target audience if it was published under a gender neutral name. Because the primary target originally for the series was adolescent boys, she worried that an overly feminine name would turn them off the books. By using initials, Rowling made the books easily marketable to young boys and young girls.


Jane Smith's informative blog posts can help you make sense of any personal history situation. Whether you are pursuing a tenant background check or pulling an employee's criminal record, feel free to email her at janesmith161@gmail.com.


Monday, 12 December 2011

Tardy with an Award

A few weeks ago, (almost a month ago actually), my blog had another award bestowed upon it, the Liebster Blog Award given by the talented Angela Yuriko Smith and her wonderful blog Dandilyon Fluff.  Between writing, reviewing and general forgetfulness, I neglected to post about it until now. But better late than never I suppose.

So here it is:

“The Liebster Blog Award started in Germany and was intended to drive traffic to hidden gems.” Liebster is German for “friend”. The rules are simple:

1. Thank the giver and link back to the blogger who gave it to you.
2. Reveal your top blogger friends and let them know by leaving a comment on their blog.
3. Copy and paste the award on your blog.

My top blogger friends (besides Angela) are:

Pat Bertram (who has so many blogs I’ve lost count). Check out her main one at: http://ptbertram.wordpress.com/

Joylene Nowell Butler, a wonderful writer with an insightful and helpful blog: http://cluculzwriter.blogspot.com/

Sheila Deeth, an exquisite writer who also does great book reviews: http://sheiladeeth.blogspot.com/

Rhetta Akamatsu, who writes about blues music, ghosts and the paranormal and steampunk: http://rhetta.wordpress.com/

And all the bloggers over at Murder by 4. There is always something interesting brewing at that blog: http://murderby4.blogspot.com/

Check them out, you won’t be sorry.

Monday, 17 October 2011

Introducing Coffin Hop



Turn On the Lights and Hide Under the Covers! 
The Coffin Hop Starts Soon!

This Blog Hop Horror Fest starts Oct. 24th and runs until Oct 31st, with scares aplenty.  I've signed up for this bouncy blog tour and until the end of the month you will be bombarded with all things horror and Halloween!







 
 A sneak peek at some of my goodies:

  • I will celebrate some of the villains I've created for my readers
  • I'll  post excerpts from  my books
  • The character from Victorian Shadows, the demon Balthazar, stops by for an interview (This will be the actual Oct 24th Coffin Hop post)
  • Author Coral Russell stops by for an interview and to talk about her paranormal/horror books
  • Gordon Kessler, author of the horror thriller Jezebel, guest blogs for Halloween


For today's offering, I give you an excerpt from my new book, Ruined City.  While not a horror book (it's more of a dark fantasy) this particular sample will curl your toes (I hope):

Excerpt from Ruined City:

I sniff the air.  The wind is ripe with the stink of human scent and I follow the smell.  I meld into the night’s shadows and slither along the streets.
I see them through the darkness, walking, laughing, touching.  It is disgusting.  I will enjoy killing this repulsive pair.
I pace them, stalking.  I growl to unnerve them.  They stop, afraid, and I step into the light so they might see me.
The female shrieks and the male yells and then they run.  Silly, silly humans, do they not know I like to give chase.  I even give them a generous head start to be fair.
The man is quick, faster than the woman; he manages to get inside a structure before I catch them.  He leaves the female outside pounding and grasping at the door and yanking at the latch.  She is shouting to be let in, but it is too late.
I pry her fingers from the wood and toss her into the street where I snap the bones in her legs so she cannot run. I adore her cries of pain and the mask of agony on her face.  I leap on top of her body and she beats at me with a futile flailing of her tiny fists.
“Get away from me!  Get away!”  Her foolish shrieks whet my appetite, and I slice through her yielding skin with my claws.  I drip her warm blood on my tongue; she tastes good. I slice a fleshy piece of her arm as she screeches and cries.  I chew slowly, to enjoy my first taste of her meat.


 
For more on the participants in Coffin Hop scroll down to the bottom of this blog and check out the official  list.

Monday, 1 August 2011

Worlds of Fantasy with Author David Brown

Today we have another guest stopping by, author David M. Brown is visiting as part of his blog tour for his book Fezariu's Epiphany.  He will be discussing the fascinating topic of building a fictional fantasy world. 
And all you lucky commenters get a chance to win a $25 gift certificate from Amazon, as that prize will be given away at the end of his tour (so be sure to check out the rest of his stops and comment for more chances to win).  So now on with the show, and David...


World Builders


One day in 1999 I was a college student who suddenly became a god. As you can imagine this sort of thing does take one by surprise but don’t worry, this wasn’t a visitation from some celestial being, it was the start of my fictitious world – Elenchera. Hours spent immersed in Final Fantasy VII on the Playstation and an introduction to Norse mythology had triggered the god within me and I knew it was time to create a world that would form the background to a series of novels.

Creating a world is no small feat and that’s just me being honest and not showing off! There are no right or wrong answers but, for me, I began by drawing a world map. I have no qualifications from the University of Cartography and my first world map was an undoubted work of naivety. Some squiggles that were mostly green with some yellow bits for deserts, brown pointy bits for mountains and let’s not forget that blue stuff that takes ages to colour in because it’s the ocean! Yes, my first world map was some simple lines coloured in with crayons but it was a start and once I’d started naming the individual lands the history began to take shape. Geographical features alone can dictate the history of your world. Are islands and continents near each other always going to be friends? If you have monarchs hungry for war then where better to start than your nearest neighbours when extending your kingdoms? The placing of towns also depends on your geography. Not many, if any, will be in the desert or mountains: the terrain isn’t the easiest to settle in and don’t forget the need for your locals to have access to water in the form of rivers and lakes. This very basic approach is how I began Elenchera, all seemingly obvious stuff but I knew it had to be right.

Once those maps were done - and over time there have been 500+ - I thought about world creation from a metaphysical point of view. There have been many myths about how our world started so I drew inspiration from them and chose the route of a god that created Elenchera with the assistance of a group of servants. A simple approach but it worked well in shaping the early centuries of Elenchera especially when I threw in a rebellion and war fought between the principal deity and his now former servants, the traditional good versus evil struggle. That war was fought on a huge landmass known as Elenchera but in the aftermath the world was broken up into twenty-three separate lands each with their own unique societies. Moving between each of the lands was time-consuming but essential.

I have a great love of history so being able to create my own from scratch was a privilege rather than an ordeal. I read Cassell’s World History from cover to cover, to understand early settlement and the progress of civilisations that rise to power and suffer inevitable falls from grace. This has happened all over the world at some point. We have the capacity to become powerful but can never hang onto it forever. With that book as reference I took each land in turn and imagined settlers first arriving there and building their first towns, slowly making their way across the terrain and building new settlements as and where geographical constraints would allow. You’ll find once you’ve taken these early steps the rest soon follows. You’ll have times of peace, war between nations, rebellions, journeys of discovery, advances in science and agriculture, maybe even your own Renaissance periods or Golden Ages for architecture or rises in popularity of literature. The possibilities are endless. I’ve spent more than ten years building Elenchera and it stands at 2,000+ pages and more than 47,000 years of history. Some may call me mad but I just smile and say I never knew madness could be so much fun!


Author Bio:


David M. Brown was born in Barnsley in 1982 and first conceived the idea of Elenchera in college. His love of history and English led him to read these subjects at Huddersfield University. David is inspired by medieval history, Norse mythology and Japanese role-playing video games and anime films. He lives in Huddersfield with his wife Donna and their six rescue cats.


You can find more of David and Elenchera over at these websites:

The Elencheran Chronicles: http://elenchera.com/

The World According to Dave: http://blog.elenchera.com/

Facebook:
http://www.facebook.com/elenchera
http://www.facebook.com/fezariu

Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/elenchera



Fezariu's Epiphany

The White Oak, Clarendon’s oldest brothel, lured and destroyed men by the thousands. Fezariu was different. He had never been drawn by the White Oak’s vices but the brothel had still ruined him when he was just a boy.
Salvation came in the form of the Merelax Mercenaries – Elenchera’s most prestigious hired hands. They gave Fezariu the chance to escape from his past. Immersed in the world of dangerous assignments in the colonies Fezariu longed to forget everything about his childhood but only in facing the past would he ever be free of it.



Excerpt:

Prologue-

A sudden lull in the snowfall allowed the overhanging moon to bask the valley in its nocturnal splendour. Fezariu’s gaze fell upon the crystalline glitter on the surface of the snow and he felt a slight ironic smile come to his numb lips as he absorbed this intricate beauty in the midst of countless fading lives. In his arms, Tessera awoke and now seemed oblivious to the mortal wound she had suffered in the battle the mercenaries had so decisively lost.

"Do you remember when we first trained with General Bayard, Fezariu?" Tessera asked, briefly closing her eyes, causing tears to run down her face, their trace briefly alleviating the bitter and enveloping cold.

"My erstwhile teacher with selective hearing," Fezariu replied with a wry smile. "How could I forget?"

When Tessera failed to respond, Fezariu began to feel her edging closer to delirium. Her questions became frequent though she awaited no response or acknowledgement of any kind from Fezariu.

"Do you remember sitting on the wall overlooking Redemption with Vintaro and smoking Mizuansi?" Tessera asked, between painful coughs. "I can still see the luminous stars through the myriad of colours rising from the bowls of our pipes. The seemingly endless conflict throughout the streets was over and with it the rebellion. The city stood subdued and silent save for the foundations of the tallest buildings that still trembled in the aftermath of the devastation. Do you remember the torches that lit up the harbour at Strathmore? Our journey to Clarendon changed everything. We should never have gone there. It was never the same after that. Do you remember, Fezariu?"




 

You can find the complete schedule of dates for David M. Brown's Blog Tour here:  http://goddessfishpromotions.blogspot.com/2011/06/virtual-book-tour-fezarius-epiphany-by.html









Wednesday, 27 July 2011

Storytime Wednesday: Violet's in Bloom by Glory Lennon

Welcome to Storytime Wednesday, where we will enchant your imagination or tease your sense, with featured stories and book excerpts.


Today's guest writer is Glory Lennon with an excerpt from her serialized paranormal romance novel, Violet's in Bloom.
 
 

An Excerpt from Violet’s in Bloom:


Prologue: Death of a Firefighter


“Emily! I gotta get Emily!” the distraught mother screamed as two firefighters held her back.
“Where is she?” Richard shouted. He could barely make himself heard over the screeching sirens, over the bellows from Captain Frankfort and the roar of the flames eating the building in front of them.
“She’s upstairs, last room at the end of the hall. Her dog is with her. Please, let me get her. She won’t come with you. Please!” the woman screamed.
“She’ll come. I have a way with little girls,” Richard assured, smiling at her. He released her then ran into the smoke filled building after pulling on his mask and helmet.
“Ramrod, don’t!” Jake yelled, doubling his efforts to restrain the woman. “You can’t go in alone!”
But too late. Richard was through the doorway and enveloped instantly in billowing black smoke. Flames everywhere, he darted as a beam slammed into the floor from above. He sprinted up the stairs, also aflame, down the hall and...Damn it! The door was locked. Once, twice, thrice he rammed the door with all his strength and it smashed open. Flashlight in hand he scanned the room. Luckily it wasn’t entirely filled with smoke yet but there was no one anywhere to be seen.
“Emily! Your Mama’s looking for you. Come on out, Sweetie. You can’t stay here,” he shouted as he searched under the bed and behind the desk in the corner. A faint whine caught his ear.
He swung open the closet door and there she sat huddled behind some stuffed animals, a playhouse, several shoes and her golden retriever who growled menacingly up at him. Richard could understand that. With his mask on he knew he would definitely look frightening to a little kid and threatening to her protective dog.
“There’s a good puppy watching out for Emily,” he said soothingly as he removed the mask. The Captain would kill him dead for it, after he lectured Richard non-stop for an hour, that is. But Emily needed to see he wasn’t Darth Vader or something worse. “Your Mama’s worried sick, Sweetie. Let’s get you to your mama, okay?”
“Mommy! Mommy!” she cried still holding the dog.
“Rich, you idiot! Mark will have your head for coming in alone!” Bill shouted coming up behind him.
“Emily, this is Bill, my friend. He’s gonna take you to your mama. Come on, baby,” Richard said kindly as he pulled her out. The dog snarled and went to bite him. He released the girl and Bill grabbed her. Richard then lunged for the dog wrestling his muzzle shut. “Go, Bill, get out. I got the dog. I’m right behind you.”
Bill cradled the girl in his arms and threw open the window. “We’re going for a little ride, Honey.”
“Hunny Pot! I wanna hold Hunny Pot!” Emily cried.
“What’s that?” Bill asked the child as he swung one leg out the window.
“My dog.”
“I got him, Emily,” Richard said but at that moment a terrible crunching sound came from directly above him and the ceiling caved in pinning him to the floor. The dog yelped pathetically and struggled to release himself from the burning pieces of timber.
“Rich!” Bill screamed in terror. “Kid, you’re gonna have to take a ride by yourself,” he said then dropped her out just above the tarp surrounded and held by his fellow firefighters. He took a second to see if she landed all right then turned back to Richard.
“Ramrod, let go of the dog so I can get you out!” Bill growled, panic tearing through him. He grabbed the dog and unceremoniously threw him out the window, too, this time not checking to see where he landed. Rich had a nasty gash slicing open his skull, an iron rod impaled his chest and his crystalline blue eyes bulged as he sought Bill.
“Oh, Rich, no....no...” Bill whispered, horrified.
“Tell Violet....tell her... I love her....”
“No! No, Rich!”

* * * * *

Violet awoke abruptly. She automatically reached over for Richard. He still wasn’t home? She glanced at the clock. 2:42 A.M.
“You should be home by now, Richard,” she mumbled to herself.
“I’m here, Violet.”
She turned quickly and gaped at him. His uniform was covered with soot and soaking wet. He stood dripping sooty water onto the carpet. She sat up in bed frowning. “Richard, you’ve never come home like that. Why didn’t you clean up at the station before coming back? It must have been an awful fire. Anyone hurt?” she asked anxiously.
He hesitated a second. “Saved a little girl, Emily McNamara and her dog, Hunny Pot. Bill tossed them out the window just in time,” he said a sad smile on his dirt streaked face.
“Is Bill all right?”
“Oh, sure, he’s fine.”
“Oh, Richard, I’m so glad,” she replied relief flooding through her. “Can I help you get cleaned up?” She swung her legs off the bed and made to get up but Richard stopped her with a dirty hand on her shoulder.
“No, Baby, stay here. I need to tell you something,” he said earnestly.
“But, Richard, you’re dripping all over the place and you must be so uncomfortable in that stuff.”
“I’m not. I feel fine... now,” he insisted. He knelt down in front of her, removed his helmet and took her hands. “You know I love you, don’t you?”
She smiled. “Of course. I love you too. My first love, my only love,” she said.
“You remember how we met?” he asked.
“You know I do, silly. At the high school dance. You swept me right off my feet.”
“No, I mean the very first time I saw you.”
She giggled. “Kindergarten? When you stormed the play kitchen with Tommy Harris and shot my dolly with your Uzi? I somehow don’t think that’s romantic enough for the retelling,” she replied playfully.
He grinned. “But that’s when I knew you were the girl for me, the one I wanted to marry,” he replied lifting her hand and kissing it tenderly.
“No, you didn’t. You went out with tons of girls and you never even noticed me until that day at the dance after you won that big game against Meridale high,” she retorted.
“You think that was my doing? Freddy told me your dad wouldn’t let you out of the house without an army protecting you. He told me I had no shot until you were old enough. So I waited. Freddy knew I was in love with you and he arranged for us to meet at that dance. He thought it was about time you got to live a little and he thought.... well, I convinced him I might be good enough for you.”
“Is that why Freddy insisted I go to that game? To meet you?” she asked astonished. He nodded. She smiled and took a tissue out of the night stand drawer and wiped some of the soot from his face. “Well, he was definitely instrumental in us getting together, wasn’t he? More than I thought. I wish I had known. I ought to thank him. But, Richard, why are you telling me this now? We should get you into a nice warm shower.”
“I don’t have much time. Violet, I want you to know I loved you like nothing else in the world. And the kids too. Tell Sophie...tell her she’ll always be my little girl. Tell her to keep singing, to stay with music. That’s her calling. I love to hear her sing. And Kenny, tell him I’m so proud of him. His woodworking will get him far. I just know it. Tell them I love them and always will no matter where I am.”
“Richard,” she said frowning. “What is all this? Why are you saying this? We know you love us. We love you too. What’s wrong?”
He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her tenderly his lips trembling. “I don’t want to go, Violet, but I have to,” he said, desperate tears welling in his clear blue eyes.
Apprehension stole through her as she watched him. “Go where?”
“I’m not sure where but I hear my parents calling me. I hear my brother Tim, too. We’re going to be together now. They say it’s time to leave. But I want to make sure you do something for me before I go. Promise me you will love again. Promise me you will let go of me and find another good man to love you.”
Her jaw dropped. “Richard, you want to divorce me? Why?” she squeaked.
“No, Baby, it’s til death do us part,” he said gently.
“But neither one of us is dead,” she said, a stern note to her voice and now looking both scared and angry. “You’re being very weird, Richard, and I want you to stop it. Stop it right now!”
He took her in his arms and held her tightly, his tears leaving sooty streaks down his face. “I don’t want to go but I have to. I’m dead. I didn’t make it out of that house fire. It collapsed around me. I’m still there under the rubble. They’re digging me out now. Promise me, so I can go in peace. Promise me and I’ll know you’ll be all right. Can you do that, Violet?”
She pushed him away. “No, I can’t! You’re going nowhere. Get in the shower. You’re messing up the floor,” she shouted, annoyed and fighting the urge to cry.
“This is just a dream, Violet. It’s the only way for me to talk to you. Promise me already. Promise you’ll let another man love you and take care of you. I don’t want to leave you all alone,” he insisted his voice now gruff and agitated.
“Richard, you’re the only one I ever want. You can’t leave me. You promised to always love me,” she said, her whole body shaking with emotion.
“I will. I’ll always love you even when I’m gone.”
“But you can’t go. We have the kids. They need you. I need you. You have to stay,” she cried, throwing her arms around his neck desperately clinging to him.
He shook his head, removed her arms from around him and resolutely stood up. “If you don’t let me go I’ll be a ghost forever haunting you. You don’t want that. That’s no life for you. Promise me.”
“No! Stop this foolishness, Richard. Get in the shower and come to bed. I need you here,” she said bursting into angry tears. She took another tissue and wiped at her face. When she looked up Richard had vanished.
“Richard? Richard!” she shouted. She got up and went to the bathroom. He wasn’t there. She ran through the house opening doors, calling his name. Terror ripped through her. Where did he go? He had simply vanished.
The shrill ringing of the phone awoke Violet. She sat up breathing quickly as if she had run a mile in the last few seconds. She willed her heart to steady itself. “It was just a dream.... just a very bad dream,” she mumbled as she reached out a shaky hand to catch the receiver.
“Richard?” she whispered.
“Violet, this is Mark Frankfort down at the firehouse. I have some bad news, Violet, about Rich.”
She let the phone drop to the floor into a puddle of sooty water next to her bedroom slippers.

You can find more Violet's in Bloom at:   Violet's in Bloom, a serialized novel
 
Author Bio:

Glory Lennon started writing stories shortly after being introduced to the Harry Potter series by her son's best friend. She wanted to try her hand at making people laugh, cry and feel every other emotion out there, just like JK Rowling did for countless fans, Glory topping that list.
Glory started writing for the web at Helium, Green Thumb Articles and Self Reliance Works where she puts her excessive knowledge of plants and frugality to work for her. She has in the meantime started several novels, but only finish one which she promptly tossed aside to be seriously revised at a later date. Yes, it was that bad!
Now she spends much of her time with her five blogs only one of which isn’t for her stories. Her garden blog is predictably titled Glory’s Garden. The others are: Glory’s Short Stories, novel-in-progress Violet’s in Bloom (from which this excerpt comes), An Ever Fixed Mark and a novella titled Where Your Treasure Lies.

Monday, 11 July 2011

Author Maggie Secara Talks Fantasy

Today's a blog swap for me as I guest over on Maggie Secara's blog (kicking off the Killers and Demons blog tour), and she enchants my readers here, with her insightful words about writing fantasy:


The Fantasy You Know


One of the first things you’re told when you set out to be writer of any sort is to “write what you know.” I’ve taught this maxim myself in workshops any number of times not as a mindless cliché but because really: what else is there to do? Not everyone agrees, of course. New writers especially tend to say “But I don’t know anything!”
 Of course you do. Have you ever been in love? Have you ever had parents who didn’t approve of the choices you made? Have you ever interacted with other people at all? Everything you’ve learned about people—or rainstorms, music, or car repair—from every experience you’ve had or shared with friends is part of what you know. If you listen to the way people speak, and hear the differences as well as similarities; if you notice the twist of your Aunt Mary’s hand when she makes a point, or the wheeze in your best friend’s Grandpa’s honky laugh; all those things are part of what you know. They all go into your writer’s kit, available whenever you need them.

I’ve also heard some people exclaim that it’s the worst advice they were ever given. They don’t want to be limited to what they know, they say! “I have an imagination! I can imagine more than I can ever experience!” Apparently they think they have been advised to write only about events in which they literally participated. Nonsense. They’ve invented a limit where none is intended.

My first novel, Molly September, is a pirate story, though it does have a touch of fantasy here and there. It takes place in 1672. Much of it takes place aboard the privateer, Jealous Mary. The rest is set in Port Royal, Jamaica, or on Tortuga. Right here, there’s a potential problem. It may be obvious that I’m not 350 years old, and thus have no direct experience of the 17th century. I’ve never been a pirate (other than being a Jimmy Buffet fan) or lived at sea. I’ve never even been to Jamaica! So how is that writing what I know?

Okay, I have to admit, my original inspiration for this novel was a handful of Errol Flynn movies (it began way before Johnny Depp put on the Jack Sparrow rig) and a National Geographic feature about Port Royal. I didn’t actually know a whole lot else about pirates and privateers besides what I knew from the movies. So I set out to learn. I read Capt. Johnson’s accounts, Esquemelling’s diary, and the Time-Life Seafarers series. I looked at tourist vacation photos and antique maps. Studied hurricane reports, and the diagrams of the fore-and-aft rigging. Poured over every pirate website historical and fanciful that anyone ever put on the web, found more maps, more details. And even though I hadn’t memorized all that wonderful stuff, I had learned a lot about that world and filed away a lot more. It became—along with falling in love, defying parents, and learning to sing—part of what I know.

Well, fine, you cry. That’s all very well for historical fiction. At least Drake, Morgan, and Blackbeard actually existed. What’s that got to do with writing fantasy? What is there to study? There are no histories or reliable photos. Faery isn’t a real place. (“Isn’t it?” my Oberon would say. “I’m sure you know best.”)

In the last couple of years, my principal project has been a fantasy series called The Bells of Elfland. I’ve never met a fae, that I’m aware of, or sung my way through the veils that part our worlds, any more than I’ve sailed a pirate ship. How can I write about such things, complete with my own notions of the nature and location of Faery, and still be writing what I know?

The realm of Faery exists as an element of folklore almost everywhere on Earth. Are the faeries nature spirits, or the diminished gods of various regions driven underground by a new religion? Are they the fancies of an idle brain or the delusions of ignorant country folk teased up by Victorian folklorists? Maybe. Still, Tolkien and Shakespeare wrote about them. Were they deluded, ignorant, or mad? Or were writing what they knew?

J.R.R. Tolkien (1892–1973) invented one of the most completely realized fantasy world ever imagined in print, but he didn’t do it from scratch. What fed his imagination was a long career studying the oldest forms of English literature, including the traditions of Norse and Anglo-Saxon cultures with their tales of rings, heroes, dwarves, and elves. William Shakespeare (1564–1616) put Oberon in A Midsummer Night’s Dream drawing on the legends and beliefs of the country people he grew up among, descended from the same Anglo-Saxon folk whose languages Tolkien would study centuries later. (He apparently made Titania up, or at least invented the name, as it doesn’t appear anywhere before then.) Fantasists with attachments to other parts of the world use the folklore of those cultures, too.

Writers read. We have to read. Not just fantasy and science fiction—everything. Neil Gaiman, Terry Pratchett, Mercedes Lackey, Patricia McKillip: all of your favorite fantasists are part of the great continuum of folk tale and fairy story. That’s where the histories and maps of Faery and every other fantasy world are. No reliable pictures? Spend time with Brian Froud, Alan Lee, Charles Vess, and the classic fairy illustrators like Arthur Rakham, Edmond Dulac, Warwick Goble. Each of them has a vision. Each of them has heard the bells of Elfland. They’re in the kit, too.

The more you go to the sources, and to the folklore of other cultures as well, the more you learn. The more you learn, the more you’ll have in that kit that your imagination calls on, no matter the genre. And you’ll be writing what you know.

Maggie Secara is a technical writer by trade, which just proves that you can make a living with a Masters in English. Maggie started writing poetry at the tender age of 8, but began her story-telling adventures sometime in junior high school with a Robin Hood saga she promises never to reveal. She has published a bit of poetry here and there, and her first novel, Molly September, debuted in the spring of 2011. She is also the author of A Compendium of Common Knowledge 1558-1603, a handbook of Elizabethan life for actors, writers, and re-enactors. Based on her website at elizabethan.org, it was finally released in book form in 2008. Maggie and her very understanding husband, known fondly to her Facebook fans as JimDear, live with their cats in cozy suburban splendor in North Hollywood, California.

Find Maggie at maggiros.blogspot.com or join her Facebook fan page, Maggie Secara’s Writing.


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